


Stay

by louisvuittontrashbags



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, Multi, Polyamory, Spitroasting, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25510633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisvuittontrashbags/pseuds/louisvuittontrashbags
Summary: When Dedue is summoned to his liege's chamber late at night, he wonders if perhaps his worst fears have finally come true--what he finds is something straight out of his wildest fantasies.
Relationships: Dedue Molinaro & My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro/My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 19
Kudos: 82





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't exactly a reader fic, but it's left vague on purpose to allow yourself to step into the queen's place if that's your thing. If you have one of those fanfic extensions, feel free to substitute "brown" for whatever your eyecolor is. Otherwise I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading! ;3;

Dedue has never been one for festivals. They remind him too much of things lost, things he’ll never have. But there is one thing that has him almost looking forward to the upcoming harvest festival.

Her smile.

The queen’s smile could melt the frostiest heart, and during festivals it’s there in abundance. Not the regal, practiced smile she gives to her courtiers, but the real smile, the one that shows her teeth and crinkles the edges of her eyes. It’s the one thing he looks forward to when the crowds begin to clog the castle grounds.

So when he doesn’t see her smile this time, he begins to worry.

He watches her all week—she gives the people that rehearsed smile, and they clap and cheer like trained seals, entirely unaware of what they’re missing. The longer that smile stays absent from her face, the more the knot in his belly grows, until it’s all-consuming.

_Perhaps she is unwell_ , he thinks, searching for some excuse to quiet the voice in his head that whispers those ugly words to him. _The only thing unwell in this castle is you. You’ve let them down._

When her eyes meet his by chance, she holds his gaze for a moment too long as she always does, but this time there’s no intimate, secret smile only for him. This time she tears her gaze away with an expression Dedue knows well—shame. He can see it in the flush of her cheeks, the way she bites her lip.

_It’s finally happened._ He’s surprised at how light the realization settles after the turmoil he’d felt previously. Perhaps it’s because he’s been preparing himself for this day for years. _She has grown tired of you. It is only natural._

It’s easier now, with that ugliness settled. He can prepare himself for what’s to come. Dimitri will likely send him to some far corner, a post dignified enough to thank him for his years of service, but far enough that he can comfortably forget Dedue’s existence. But Dedue won’t forget them so easily. Not Dimitri, his best and only friend… and not her.

_Not her._

The queen is special, occupying a deep corner of his heart not even Dimitri has reached. She showed him kindness long before she married Dimitri, when they were all students together at the officer’s academy. The day Dimitri announced their betrothal Dedue had congratulated him sincerely, knowing that this is the best thing for both of them, and he’d stuffed his ridiculous fantasies back down into the depths from whence they came

Well, he’d tried, anyway. His will is strong, but love is stronger, and it shames him to think of the ways in which he’d dreamed of his best friend’s wife—the _queen—_ and how he’d handle a woman like her were he ever to be so lucky. A few months ago he’d almost interrupted them in their bedchambers—the sight of Dimitri’s bare buttocks dimpling with the effort of his thrusts freezing him in his tracks in the doorway. He’d backed away immediately, but gods help him, he’d listened outside the door for as long as his shame would allow before he’d fled, the sounds of the queen’s soft gasps and Dimitri’s low grunts haunting him for the rest of the week.

But that incident had been his private shame—he’d escaped undetected. Surely… gods, he hopes it can’t be the reason.

The festival finally comes to a close, and Dedue can sense resolution close at hand. Dimitri, in his infinite mercy, no doubt wished to allow his most loyal vassal one last happy week—if only Dedue were the type to enjoy such festivities.

“Dedue.” One of the king’s attendants, a red-haired man with a slight build and a quiet voice gives Dedue a stiff bow. He’s always seemed a bit resentful to see a man of Duscur favored so. _No doubt he will be glad to see me go._ “The King wishes to see you in his chambers.”  
  
“I understand.” Dedue gives the man a small bow in return, and he begins the long walk down the castle hall to the end of his life as he knows it.

When he reaches the door to the king and queen’s private chambers, the guards give him a strange look.

“Kinda late for official business,” one says, and the other only frowns.

“When the king summons me, I comply.” Dedue’s tone carries a warning in it. “Unless you would like me to tell his majesty I have been delayed because his guards felt his summons inappropriate."

The guards exchange a look that seems to say hassling him isn’t worth it, and part to let him pass. Dedue has made this walk hundreds, perhaps thousands of times, often with tea and sweets. It twists his guts to think that this will be the last time he’ll do it.

Another set of doors stands between him and his dear friends, and then he’s entering their chambers, exhaling quietly to prepare himself for what’s to come.

The King stands, likely pacing around the room as he often does at this hour. He’s dressed in a simple white dress shirt and black slacks, elegant enough for a king, naturally, but nowhere near his daytime finery. The queen sits on a chaise, dressed in a robe so soft and luxurious even now he wishes his coarse fingers could be the ones to undo the ties. He’s surprised to see tea and wine on a table, but he chides himself for his surprise. _Of course they will offer you sweets. They are royalty. It is only the polite thing to do, even if it is more than you deserve_

“Dedue, my friend.” Dimitri’s smile is warm, too warm, and it just makes it all worse. The queen looks just as uncomfortable as ever, and the contrast in their demeanor only makes things more painful. If he could see her smile one last time, he’d go without asking for a thing.

“Your Highness.” Dedue gives him a formal bow, then nods to the queen. “Your Grace.”  
  
The queen manages a small smile for him, but she plays with a thick strand of curls, clearly nervous.

“Come now.” Dimitri’s cheeks are already a bit flushed—it seems he’s been into the wine already. “How many times must I tell you to call us by our names? It’s been years.”

“I understand, Your… Dimitri,” Dedue says, wishing more than ever he could at least retreat into formality. “I only wish to be respectful.”  
  
“As you always are.” Dimitri gestures to the chair in front of him. “Sit down.”

“If it is all the same to you, I would prefer to stand.”

“Oh, ah, very well then.” Dimitri clears his throat. He looks over at the queen, but she doesn’t seem to be any help.

_Here it comes._

“We have known each other… a very long time now, haven’t we?” Dimitri clears his throat once again. “We’ve been through things that would break any friendship.”

“We have,” Dedue agrees, careful to keep his tone neutral.

“We have shared so much between us over the years.” Dimitri’s smile fades into something a bit less certain, and Dedue braces himself for impact. “Things that I… I could never share with anyone else.”

“It has been my honor.” Dedue tears his gaze away from Dimitri—he couldn’t possibly look at him now. Just let it be done and done quickly.

“Permit me then,” Dimitri says, swallowing audibly before he continues. “To impose upon you to share one more thing with me.”

“Anything.” The words are out of Dedue’s mouth before he can even think about them—a reflex to be sure, but he means every word.

At this, the queen stirs, but she says nothing.

“Stay.”

Dedue frowns. He doesn’t intend to be rude, but this is the opposite of what he’d expected to hear. “I do not understand.”

The queen looks at him now with those big brown eyes that always seem to turn his resolve to jelly. She rises, not so much walking across the room as she glides. He can hear his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Stay,” she echoes the king, and she places her hands on his chest in a way she’s only ever done in his dreams.

Dedue’s throat sticks to itself as he tries fruitlessly to swallow. His mind is working frantically to put the pieces together—whatever this is, it can’t be what it looks like. “Does this mean I will not be sent away?”

“What?” It’s Dimitri’s turn to frown. “Why would we send you away?”

Dedue drags his gaze away from Dimitri to the woman in front of him, and he can feel his hands begin to shake. “I thought perhaps you had grown tired of me.”

“We could never.” The queen answers this time, and now her hands are wandering. They travel up his chest to his shoulders, pulling him closer to her and leaving no ambiguity in her words. “Stay.”

“Your Highness,” Dedue breathes, trying to make some sense of this rapidly escalating situation. “If I were to… to stay… it would look untoward. There would be assumptions made…”

“Assumptions?” The queen’s nimble little fingers are tracing patterns in his chest and shoulders, and Dedue wonders if perhaps he’s lost his mind. “When have I ever cared about the opinions of others when it came to you?”

Dedue grabs her hand—not with force, but with firmness all the same. The look in his eyes is almost pained. He looks past her to Dimitri.

“I am certain I have misunderstood.” His voice is a croak. “It would appear you are asking me to stay the night. In your marital bed.” He gives Dimitri a small bow of his head. “Please forgive my impropriety.”

“That is exactly what we are asking you.” Dimitri holds Dedue’s gaze for a few long moments. “Do you not desire it?”

How can Dedue answer this question? There’s nothing he desires more.

“It would be the greatest honor of my life.” His voice is quiet, but his eyes tell a different story. “But I could not undertake it so lightly. For you, it is only one night. For me…”

He can’t bring himself to say the rest. _I couldn’t go back after this. Don’t give me a banquet and ask me to return to crumbs thereafter._

“Do you think so poorly of us, Dedue?” Dimitri crosses the room to join the pair, placing a hand on his shield’s shoulder. “That we’d gamble with your emotions for one night of pleasure?”

Dedue looks at Dimitri’s hand on his shoulder, and then back into the blue depths of his best friend’s eye. “…no.”

“You are so dear to us,” the queen murmurs. “Dear to me.” Dimitri’s other hand is already between their bodies, finding the tie of her robe, and Dedue knows that once her robe is open there’ll be no going back.

“Promise me nothing will change,” Dedue whispers, already feeling his cock beginning to push all reason out the window. “Promise me we will remain as we are.”

The queen’s robes fall to the floor, leaving her bare before him, and Dedue’s body is answering before Dimitri can get the words out.

“I promise.”

Tall as he is, the queen still manages to kiss him first, and when her soft lips meet his Dedue can’t stop the groan that rushes from between his full lips. She’s softer than he ever imagined, even despite the blatant hunger in her touch. He’s felt her lips on his cheeks before, in the academy and on rarer occasions in the castle, but it was never enough. He couldn’t have imagined this feeling, the way her lips slide against his, the heat and tactility of her tongue—he’s left his fantasies far behind now.

Something else he couldn’t have imagined—Dimitri’s strong hands on his body, already working to undress him. There’s something equally confusing and thrilling in the thought that his best friend is not only fully aware of this coupling, but seems to derive just as much pleasure in seeing it happen. He’s respectful of Dedue as he undresses him, but there’s a softness in his touch that belies the need apparent in the quickening of his breath.

“Touch her,” Dimitri’s voice is hot in Dedue’s ear, and Dedue obeys, just as he’s always done. His calloused hands feel unworthy to hold someone so soft and untouched by the horrors of war, but his arousal makes no such distinctions. As he palms and cups her generous backside his cock throbs, and he groans quietly.

“You cannot imagine how she wanted you.” Dimitri’s hard body is so close to theirs Dedue can feel the heat radiating from him, and his hands only seem to press them closer together. “How she whispered of this in our most private moments with my cock buried inside of her.”

“This cannot be real,” Dedue murmurs, even as he gives her buttocks another eager squeeze, desperate to know that he’s not imagining this. His hips press to her body, and he grinds his erection against her belly, unable to keep himself still.

“It’s very real.” The queen reaches down to grasp his arousal, stroking him with a firm grip. “Even if it feels like a dream.”

“Take her to the bed.” Dimitri guides Dedue forward with a hand on his lower back, and Dedue’s strong legs carry him forward as he lifts the queen up with his hands on her thighs and buttocks. It doesn’t take him long to reach the bed.

He lays her down carefully, but he doesn’t join her—not yet. He needs a moment to take it all in.

_You are preparing to fuck the queen in the king’s bed._ Somewhere behind him, he can hear shuffling as Dimitri sheds his own clothing. _With his permission. No, his… enthusiasm._

None of this makes much sense, but Dedue knows better than to continue to question a gift like this. He crawls onto the bed, helping himself to a sweet, lingering kiss before he begins to travel lower.

The mattress dips with the weight of Dimitri settling in at his queen’s side, and he repositions his wife so that she leans against his body, enveloped in in Dimitri’s strong arms with Dedue’s battle-roughened hands palming her thighs. Everything about her is so damn _soft_ Dedue almost doesn’t know where to begin, but Dimitri doesn’t leave him any room for hesitation.

“Touch her breasts.” The king demonstrates, half for his own benefit and half to savor the exhale it draws from his wife. “Don’t rush—we have all night.”

Dedue feels his cheeks heat, a combination of embarrassment at this gentle admonishment and continued wonder that he finds himself in this situation at all. It must show in his expression, because the queen touches his face.

“Savor this.” She strokes her thumb along a chiseled cheekbone. “Just as we will savor you.”

Dedue’s heart races all over again—he’s been so deprived of this kind of intimacy most of his life. There were, of course, attempts to set him up, kind women who’d deserved better than a man whose heart was already locked away, but to no avail. He’d even thrown himself into it once, determined to serve his king by making a good match, but he’d only managed to keep the queen’s name from his lips by burying his face between his would-be fiancée’s thighs all night.

And now he’s here, the woman he’s ached for laid out beneath him, inviting to enjoy her body as he pleases.

“I am not worthy,” he says, a small smile splaying his lips. “But I will worship at your altar as long as you will allow it.”

“You are.” Dimitri smiles himself, though there’s a mischievous bent to his expression. “And if you say something like that again you’ll be confined to the corner and only allowed to watch.”

“No he won’t.” The queen lifts his hand by the wrist to cover her breast, and Dedue squeezes tentatively, testing the feel of it before he commits. “I’m not giving him up so quickly.”

Her words fill Dedue with a pride he’s unused to—the king and queen have always spoken of him so glowingly, but in a context like this it makes him feel like a man. He bows his head, trailing his lips along her soft skin as he acquaints himself with every inch of her.

“I will endeavor to please you both.” He smiles against the curve of her breast, laving his tongue across a nipple. “I am not ready to give you up myself.”

Dimitri tips the queen’s head up for a languid kiss, and the sight of them kissing no longer tightens his chest and fills him with longing. He has tasted her lips for himself, and it won’t be long before he tastes them again.

The way she comes alive beneath Dimitri’s kiss has Dedue eager to be the one to have her writhing like that, so he ranges lower, Dimitri’s teasing be damned. He can smell her arousal, and he’s eager to sample it for himself. He has to take a moment to savor the sight of her, the petals of her sex already glistening with arousal. It fills Dedue with pride to know he’s had a hand in getting her this far.

Dimitri’s hands have already lowered to take the place of Dedue’s, teasing the queen’s nipples with his calloused thumbs as Dedue licks a stripe up her slit. Her musk is intoxicating, a heady mix of pheromone and something uniquely her own, and he can’t stop himself from burying his face in her mound with a groan. His nose rubs her clit as he allows himself to simply enjoy the feel of her beneath him, the taste of her. This is for him now.

“Yes.” Dimitri watches him with an unrestrained hunger in his eye—a look reminiscent of the old darkness in times past. He squeezes a breast with a harder grip, his fingers denting the soft flesh of her curves as he watches Dedue bury himself in his wife’s mound. Dedue can feel his eye on him as he works, and the knowledge that he’s being watched so closely is almost as thrilling as the act itself. He’d never imagined himself to be such an exhibitionist, but having someone bear witness to this act somehow makes it viscerally more satisfying.

“Just like that,” the queen breathes, and when Dedue’s fingers join the mix he’s rewarded with a lewd moan that makes his cock throb painfully. He’s determined to pleasure her first, to hear her cry out for him before he even thinks of himself. But judging by the way his thick fingers encounter no resistance from her it may not be long. Her hips roll and her back arches as he fucks her with his fingers and tongue, throwing himself into the task with the same silent determination as he’s always shown. But this time his orders aren’t following his liege into battle.

“Curl your fingers,” Dimitri rasps, his hips moving beneath the queen in a slow grind. He’s so taken by the heat of the moment all he can do is rut against her body as he watches Dedue work. _“Unravel her.”_

Dedue obeys, as he always has, and this time the reward is far more than the knowledge of a job well done or his king’s praise. The queen reaches down to grasp his hair, pulling at his ponytail in some desperate attempt for leverage, but it draws a low groan from him. He’s never had a woman pull his hair like this, but the sudden jerk sends pleasure shooting through him, and he decides he likes this.

“Dedue…” The queen’s voice is a whimper, already on the edge of bliss. “Dedue… please!”

“Suck her clitoris,” Dimitri hisses, and when Dedue complies he’s rewarded not long after with her cunt squeezing around his fingers and her sweet cries of his name filling the room. His face shines with her essence by the time she’s come down from her peak, and the normally modest Dedue is struck for a moment by the urge to look in the mirror.

Dedue would try to content himself with this precious gift, still not fully believing that this is anything more than a fevered fantasy, but Dimitri is hauling him forward with a hand on his shoulder. “Let her taste herself on your tongue.”

Once again, an order he’s never been so happy to execute. The queen’s lips are just as soft as ever, but the way she kisses him now makes his body almost tremble with desire. He never imagined he could invoke such a powerful response from a woman he’s long considered untouchable, but he finds he’s quickly growing used to this feeling.

“Did you enjoy it?” It seems more than clear the queen is having a great time, but Dedue wouldn’t feel quite right if he didn’t check in on her somehow.

“You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed.” Her smile stops his breath for just a moment. “But I want you to feel good too.”

“Do you want to fuck her?” Dimitri’s arousal is clearly at the wheel now—he isn’t rude, but his desire makes him far more blunt than the queen.

“Yes.” Dedue isn’t much better at this point. His cock can’t take too much more of this kind of tease.

“And you, darling?”

Dimitri turns his burning gaze upon the queen now, who looks up at him with a combination of desire and awe—it’s clear this energy is absolutely welcomed by her.

“Yes.” She lifts a hand to Dimitri’s hair, pulling him down into a torrid kiss. As Dedue watches them kiss, he can understand why Dimitri has seemingly gotten so much out watching the two people closest to him find pleasure in each other. The sensuality of their embrace makes him feel warm, but there’s a deep happiness in the knowledge that these two people he’s come to love so dearly can be so happy together.

And then they part, looking at him expectantly, and Dedue realizes with a quiet jolt that he’s invited to share in their happiness, and it’s almost overwhelming.

“Won’t you take me now?” The queen’s soft hand finds his hair again, stroking rather than tugging this time, and before she can say anything else Dedue is removing the tie from his hair, letting his silver locks fall down over his shoulders.

“Oh, Dedue.” The queen’s eyes widen, and she weaves her fingers through his newly freed hair. The intimacy of such a touch alone threatens to bring tears to Dedue’s eyes if he were to allow himself to think too hard on it. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

“I have never thought of myself as such.” He moves himself into position over her as Dimitri shifts to stand at the side of the bed, his arousal in hand. “But to hear it from you… nothing pleases me more. You are truly the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

“You should see her after she’s been thoroughly fucked.” Dimitri strokes himself slowly, one hand slipping his eyepatch off and over his head. His golden hair slips to cover his eye, but he pays it no mind—he’s intensely focused on what’s to come. “Take her, Dedue.”

“With pleasure.” Dedue means every word, following suit with Dimitri as he gives his aching cock a brief stroke, sliding his fingers across the queen’s slick sex and using her own natural lubricant to help himself along. He hasn’t had too much in the way of experience, but he knowshis size is not insignificant.

“If I hurt you,” he begins, but the queen only gives him a sweet smile, cutting his concerns short with a hand to his cheek.

“You would never, but I’ll let you know if I need you to take it slow.”

“Thank you.”

“If you two are finished exchanging pleasantries,” Dimitri growls, his hand never stilling on his cock. The queen reaches out for him, and when her hand curls around his length he lets out a strangled groan. For all his strength, it’s easy to see in this moment that Dimitri is just as weak to her charms as Dedue is.

“Take me.”

The queen’s words leave no room for hesitation, and Dedue can wait no longer. He lines himself up and sinks into her slowly, not because he’s afraid of hurting her, but because he’s desperate to remember everything about this moment. The way she gasps beneath him, her soft little hands climbing his forearms to press at his chest, the way her body welcomes him in, so hot and wet and _tight_. For a moment he’s afraid he’s hurting her and she’s asking him to stop, but then she’s pleading for him to kiss her, and when their lips meet he’s lost in her. He can feel her cunt relax around his massive length, inviting him in further with every sweep of his tongue against her own.

He feels her moving beneath him, and when Dimitri’s breathing quickens he surmises she must be stroking him, just as Dedue’s hips begin to move of their own accord. Their movements are slow, each finding their footing, but as time goes by both men begin to assert themselves more and more, until Dedue pushes himself up onto his knees to get a better view of things.

Dimitri wastes no time, moving in to fill the gap left by Dedue with his own cock, pressing it against the queen’s cheek and leaving a pearlescent streak of precum in his wake as he navigates his fat cockhead past her lips.

“Look at you.” His voice is low and hoarse with desire, but for all his intensity there’s obvious tenderness in his words. “You take us both so well… you were made for this.”  
  
Dedue can’t disagree—the sight of his beloved taking each of their considerable lengths so expertly is more than impressive; it’s unbelievably hot. He never imagined he’d ever see her like this, but he wants to bask in it. His hips meet hers at a faster pace now as he watches her suck the king’s cock with an amorous wonder, his body intensifying their joining purely instinctively.

“Touch her clit,” Dimitri says, jerking his head towards the queen’s lower body, and Dedue’s calloused thumb finds home at her sensitive bundle of nerves. The queen jerks, still sensitive to the touch, but if the muffled moans she’s producing are any indication she seems to be enjoying herself. Dedue continues apace, his sculpted abs flexing with every thrust of his hips and stroke of his fingers.

“Do you want him to come inside you?”

Dedue is stunned by the question—Dimitri doesn’t even ask him, he speaks directly to his wife. She closes her eyes, presumably moaning her assent around his girth.

“I-”

Dedue tries to make sense of the thought—he can’t finish inside the queen, surely. The scandal if he were to impregnate her… it would be immediately obvious what had happened.

“If you are going to tell me you can’t,” Dimitri growls, taking his wife’s hair in his hand and guiding her along his cock as he matches Dedue’s more intense pace. “Save it. I only want to know if you desire it. Leave the consequences to me.”  
  
The queen’s eyes open, and she looks up at him from beneath her lashes, her cheeks flushed and hollowed as she sucks Dimitri’s cock with a lewd sound. She might as well be begging for it—Dedue imagines her with a belly swollen with his child, and suddenly the wagging tongues of courtiers seem miles away.

“I want to,” he says, his cheeks flaming hot as he surprises himself with his own boldness. “I want to fill her until her thighs are wet with my seed.”

Dimitri smiles, a dark, lusty sort of expression. “Tell her.”

Dedue’s hips quicken as he speaks, some of his control slipping as he lets himself get carried away in his fantasy. He’s not used to sharing thoughts like this aloud, but when he’s buried inside of her he feels invulnerable somehow.

“I want to fill her until her belly swells with child,” he grunts. “I want them to look at her and know it was me, a man from Duscur… a commoner…”  
  
“Yes.” Dimtri’s voice is a rasp, his breathing ragged. He sounds like he might be close himself.

“I want to them to know I have had their queen in ways they could only imagine.” His thumb never stills, even when the queen’s toes curl and her hand fists the sheets around her. “That among them only I was worthy to take her.”

“ _Yes._ ” Dimitri’s teeth are bared, his hand tight in the queen’s hair. “Don’t stop.”

But before Dedue can elaborate he’s interrupted by the queen’s second orgasm of the evening, and nothing could prepare him for the way her sex contracts around his length within her. It’s as if her body wants the same thing he does, to draw the seed from him so deep into her that it must have no choice but to take root. Dimitri’s cock muffles her pleasured scream, but at this volume it only does so much.

Dimitri withdraws from her mouth suddenly, no longer able to contain himself. He gives himself one last little stroke, and then he’s spilling his seed across her breasts with a curse.

Dedue’s self-control is pushed to the brink with these two back-to-back orgasms, but he holds out just a little bit longer, pistoning into her with a force that makes every slam of his hips against hers draw a cry from the queen. Dimitri doesn’t miss a beat.

“Look at her.” Dimitri is closer to Dedue now, his breath warming his neck. “Look what a mess we’ve made of her—our pretty little cockslut. Give her what she deserves.”

“Kiss me,” she cries, and it’s the raw need in her voice that sends him over the edge, bending down to crush his lips to hers as his orgasm surges through him. He braces himself above her on his forearms, fucking his seed into her depths as his heart races and pleasure wracks his body.

He’s loath to withdraw from her, but this boneless feeling settling over him has him fearing he’ll crush her, so he reluctantly pulls out and lies back on the mattress, his mind whirling as it tries to catch up to his body. _What just happened?_ He’s so out of it he doesn’t notice Dimitri gently cleaning the queen with a towel just next to him, but when the two of them surround him it rouses him from his stupor.

“That was incredible.” Dedue can’t keep the nerves from his expression. “But are you certain there will be no consequences from my actions?”

“You mean from finishing inside my wife?” Dimitri gives Dedue a rare mischievous grin, clearly enjoying his friend’s embarrassment. “No, I’m not. But what good is the responsibility of being king if you can’t be selfish every now and again?”

This response does not comfort Dedue, but the queen seems to notice, because she draws him into her embrace, lying down with her back to Dimitri. The feel of her soft body pressed to his makes Dedue’s heart race and cock throb all over again, but for the moment he’s more interested in ensuring there won’t be some grand punishment for daring to be happy for a few moments.

“I know you’re not used to things being easy.” The queen’s fingers tuck a strand of hair behind Dedue’s ear with a gentle grace, and he feels that familiar warmth in his chest again. “But I hope you’ll allow Dimitri and I to handle any such concerns. It’s no one’s business but ours what happens here.”

“I do not intend to imply otherwise.” Dedue exhales, trying to release some of the tension that’s found its way into his body again. “But I do not wish to cause trouble.”

Dimitri’s rough hand squeezes Dedue’s shoulder before he settles himself in behind his wife, all three of their bodies sweetly entangled beneath silken sheets.

“My friend, your presence in our lives is worth all the trouble in the world… and I have told you again and again I will not suffer an ill word spoken against you.” Dimitri’s expression has softened, his tone back to its usual sweet charm now that he’s found release. “I only wish to know that you’re happy with this arrangement.”

“What is the arrangement?” Dedue’s heart squeezes in his chest. He doesn’t want to question a good thing, but he needs to know what this means for them.

“You are welcome in our bed anytime,” Dimitri begins, but the queen completes his answer.

“I love you, Dedue. I have for many years.” She nuzzles her cheek against his scarred pec. “And Dimitri loves you too.”

“Our loves may be different, but one is no less warm than the other.” Dimitri looks over his wife’s shoulder to Dedue. “We make no claim to your life—if you wish to find another, or to be married-”

“No.” Dedue cuts Dimitri off so quickly he surprises himself. “No, I… there is nothing I desire more. I have wanted nothing more than to stay by your sides, even if I could not be…”  
  
He falls silent, years of repressed feelings coming to the fore. It’s a bit overwhelming.

“You are no less dear to me than Dimitri.” The queen smiles at him. “I love you, Dedue. The court may not be prepared to accept a relationship like ours… but it’s not up to them.”

“And I, you.” Dedue closes his eyes, trying to get acquaint himself with this strange feeling of being granted everything he’s ever desired in one fell swoop. “Words are not sufficient to express what you mean to me, both of you.”  
  
“So don’t use your words.” Dimitri’s eye glints with a heat that makes Dedue’s cock harden all over again. “Show us.”


End file.
